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of us, six of you?” Sloan asked.

      “Guess your father was more prolific,” Jonas said.

      “Or he was determined to have a girl,” Ashlyn said, her tone sweet.

      Jonas eyed Sloan. “We’ll head on now.”

      He nodded. Sloan glanced around at the rest of the Callahans on the opposite side of the fire. There was definitely a strong resemblance, but they didn’t feel like family.

      Yet they were supposed to fight for a common cause, against something dangerous that affected all of them.

      Sloan didn’t get it. Frankly, if the seven of them had been brought in to help these six, he wasn’t all that interested.

      His family could stand on their own.

      Too bad if theirs couldn’t.

      Chapter Two

      Kendall Phillips looked down at the sleeping man, unsure how to wake him. He slept like he was dead, which he probably should be, considering he’d spent the night on the ground at Rancho Diablo. In the not-quite-dawn light, she saw that the fire had gone out, perhaps hours ago.

      The next thing Kendall knew, she was flat on her backside in the dust. “Ow!” Her fanny smarted—and now this guest of Jonas’s was on her very bad side. “Let go of me, you gorilla!”

      “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

      She noted he didn’t release her, and she squelched the great desire to pull off one of her high-heeled Manolo Blahniks and pierce him with it. “I’m Kendall Phillips. I was sent with coffee and to bring you in to meet the family while it’s still dark. Let go of my ankle!”

      She slapped his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. He slowly released her, his fingers lingering against her skin—as if he wasn’t used to feeling anything soft.

      Chills ran up her legs.

      “Sorry,” he said. “Not used to a chuck wagon showing up to greet me, nor a female.”

      Kendall stood, turning to look at her white Chanel skirt, which now bore a target-size dirt mark on it, very visible despite the dimness still covering the ranch. “Apology not accepted. I was trying to wake you gently, you...” She sized the man up as he stood. “You do look like a Callahan.”

      “That’s because I am.” He glanced around. “Do me a favor. Don’t tell my brothers and sister you made it to the fire without me taking you out.”

      “I beg your pardon,” Kendall said, “but I can assure you that you and I will never be going out.”

      “It’s okay. We had a bead on her all along,” a female voice said. Five large men and one much smaller woman appeared out of the darkness. Kendall thought it was amazing how silently they could move.

      “You sleep like a bear in winter,” the petite blonde said to her brother, who looked embarrassed at her comment. “If she can sneak up on us in those shoes, you’re going to stink as a lookout. That’s got to change.”

      “This is all very nice, but not my issue,” Kendall said. “Do you want coffee or not?” She put full-force attitude into her voice, letting these people know that she might have gotten dumped on her butt, but it wouldn’t happen again.

      “Sure,” the blonde said. “You’re kind of fancy for a rancher, aren’t you?”

      Kendall was about to let her have it—she hadn’t driven a military jeep out to the corner of nowhere to put up with this—but just then her twin brother, Xav, rode up on his big stallion, and the little blonde’s eyes went huge in her face.

      “Everything all right, Kendall?” Xav asked.

      She nodded. “We’re getting to know each other, all of us,” she said, her gaze on the man who’d spilled her on the ground. “It may take a while. We have different methods of saying hello.”

      Sloan shrugged. “Where’s the coffee, Barbie?”

      Kendall sucked in a breath. “Did you just call me Barbie?”

      The big man looked at her curiously. “Is that a problem?”

      His brothers shifted, and as slight streaks of dawn began slowly lighting the sky, she realized that all these people looked very Callahan—and a little dangerous.

      Darn Jonas for saddling me with this mission.

      “My name is Kendall Phillips,” she said. “This is my twin, Xavier. We help out at the Callahan ranches.”

      “Not dressed like that, you don’t,” Sloan said. “Unless you’re the party planner.”

      “That’s right,” Kendall said. “That’s what I am, the party planner.” She glared at him, not caring that he was disgustingly handsome even after sleeping on the ground all night. “You’re going to miss the party if you don’t all introduce yourselves, because I’m going to drive off in the only mode of vehicular transportation that can make it out here, with your stupid pot of coffee. And you won’t eat the hot bacon and eggs Fiona Callahan has waiting on the stove. You don’t really know what you’ll be missing,” she added. “I’ve done my job. The party planner’s jeep leaves in five seconds.”

      “Sloan, Tighe, Dante, Falcon, Galen, Jace and Ashlyn,” Sloan said. “Since we need cover of darkness, we’d better get a move on.”

      He had a nice voice. A little rough and gravelly, maybe, but she thought he’d be appealing if he relaxed.

      He didn’t look as if he relaxed much. “Can’t they speak for themselves?” Kendall demanded.

      “Kendall,” Xav said, laughing, still astride his horse, “cut them a break. They’re not aware of the game rules.”

      “Yes, we are,” Ashlyn said to Xav. “We make the rules.”

      “Great,” Kendall said. “Nothing but fun times ahead, I can tell.”

      Sloan looked at her. “We appreciate you coming out here. We just weren’t expecting company.”

      She nodded, backing off just a bit. “Let’s get you that coffee.”

      He smiled, and the effect was devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful. As if he didn’t smile often, so when he did, the smile came from deep in his soul. Kendall caught her breath—and then remembered that when he’d held her ankle in his strong hand, capturing her, she was pretty certain his fingers had stroked her skin as he’d finally released her.

      It had felt nice.

      “Sorry about your skirt,” he told her. “I’d brush it off, but I think the dirt—”

      “Don’t you dare,” Kendall said. The thought of him brushing her fanny with his big, rough hand alarmed her. It didn’t ring a long-forgotten bell of sexual desire at all. “I mean, thank you, it will be fine. Nothing the dry cleaners can’t handle.”

      His dark eyes squinted at the corners, as if he might be trying to smile again but the action was just too rusty for the muscles to obey. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair, waiting for her to lead the way.

      Kendall marched the procession to the jeep and the coffee, more than ready to hand the big man and his rowdy band off to Jonas.

      Party planner, my foot. Barbie?

      What an arrogant devil. Cute, though, I suppose.

      If one likes their men rough and tough—and I don’t.

      * * *

      THEY FILED SILENTLY into their cousin’s house, somewhat awed by their surroundings. Their grandfather had said Rancho Diablo was five thousand acres, but it felt bigger. A couple of small oil derricks worked in the distance. The house was Tudor,

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